


The Four Embraces

by WriteDragon (lightspire)



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, POV Benton Fraser, The Kamasutra, number symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 16:15:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18720574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightspire/pseuds/WriteDragon
Summary: There’s four directions on this map but Fraser and Ray are only going one way. Based on The Kamasutra by Vātsyāyana, translated from Sanskrit into English by Sir Richard Burton, 1883.





	The Four Embraces

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sex Positions Challenge on ds_flashfiction/dreamwidth, May 2019.

**1) The embrace of the breasts.**

_ “When a man places his breast between the breasts of [a lover] and presses [them] with it, it is called the 'embrace of the breasts'.” _

###

The day I met “Ray Vecchio” (Take Two) was a day of doubles: double takes, double entendres,  double trouble — a day when I had no idea what in the h-e-double-hockey-sticks was going on. 

It was a day of seconds, too: seconds ticking by, second glances, and second chances.

Two seconds after we met, he hugged me, face to face, chest to chest.

“Fraser! Buddy! You have a good time up there in the Northwest Areas?” A dazzling smile lit his beautiful face, leaving me baffled and breathless.

He threw his arm around my shoulders, pulling me along with his quicksilver strides. We walked abreast and he pronounced us two made one —  _ autem duo _ ,  à  deux, a duet. 

The telephone rang, and with a wink and a nod we leapt through the looking glass, out of the metaphorical frying pan and into the literal fire.

It was a day of duplicity and double-dealing. I fed him a putty sandwich, denied my fascination, and stroked his inner thigh (had to keep that engine revving — pedestrians afoot, you know). He said he was Italian, swore he’d never risk his neck for anyone, and pretended not to care. 

Then the world exploded.

“It’s been weird, but it’s been a pleasure.”

“Likewise,” I said, and I meant it, and we flew.

The Bu-Icarus soared too close to the sun, orange and yellow fire lashing its glittering green wings, until  Mishigami swallowed us in her cool, murky depths and doused the flames.

He took a bullet for me. I caught him in my arms and called him Ray, and said it was a mistake (I lied). By the end of the day I was still baffled and breathless, but twinned, bonded, and bound to him now, fused to this golden sun-Ray who had scorched his name onto my heart and blown my mind to smithereens.

Morning came, surrounded by crypt-stones and the hushed whispers of the dead. He bared his soul to me and I bore witness to his rebirth. The sun returned, along with his smile, and I knew then that we would be partners, and friends, forever. 

 

**2) The embrace of the forehead.**

_ “When either of the lovers touches the mouth, the eyes and the forehead of the other with his or her own, it is called the 'embrace of the forehead'.” _

###

Our lips touched. I gave him the gift of breath, the kiss of life, and told him a quartet of lies. 

“That’s buddy breathing.” 

“Standard procedure.” 

“No (nothing’s changed between us).” 

And the biggest prevarication of them all, “Don’t worry, Mr. Instinct, I’m not excited.” 

Two thousand years ago, the poet  [ Vātsyāyana ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/V%C4%81tsy%C4%81yana) wrote: “If you are kissed, kiss back,” because it is the polite thing to do. It only takes a second to be courteous.

It took longer than a second, but Ray eventually remembered his manners. Besides, he owed me air, and Kowalskis always paid their debts; I made sure of that.  
  


 

**3) The embrace of the jaghana, i.e. the part of the body from the navel downwards to the thighs.**

_ “When a man presses the jaghana or middle part of the [lover’s] body against his own, and mounts upon [them] to practice, either scratching with the nail or finger, or biting, or striking, or kissing, the hair of the [lover] being loose and flowing, it is called the 'embrace of the jaghana'. _ ”

###

It happened four times. Four: a sacred number — four directions, four seasons, four phases of the moon, four elements — Water, Air, Earth, and Fire.

The first time was in the water, in a submarine, my back pressed tight against the vault of his thighs. I felt him, hard against my backside, sweating, panicked, and confused both by proximity and the trauma of nearly drowning. I squirmed, he firmed, and my vision blurred such that I nearly lost my way. Adrift in the liquid dark, our hearts pounding and breathing labored, he gave me an ultimatum. 

“Trust me,” he demanded, and I did. I took a hard left turn, a leap of faith, and it made all the difference.

The second time was in the air, with him strapped to my back. I hauled us by sheer force of will up a vertical cliff, arms and legs numb with pain and cold, the terror of nothing but empty space and death beneath us. Two ships, red and green, navigating the horizon between existence and oblivion. We clung to anything within reach: to the jagged grey stones that tore at our skin, to each other, to hope. For a day and a night and a day, a single thought coursed through my mind, a desperate one-word prayer:  _ please _ . And still we climbed. Up, up, up, we clawed our way towards the summit, defying gravity, until finally, finally, we sailed over the top of the world.

The third time was in the earth, in a fathomless gash in the ice, rent into the depths of Hell itself.  

“We are well and truly trapped,” I told him, and knew the truth of it. 

How ironic that we would die as we had met, our bodies face to face, chest to chest, groin to groin. We raised our voices in song, raging against the dying of the light. Ironic that it took disaster to achieve what I had dared not dream of (but I did, oh, the dreams I had…).

I decided then that I would breathe my last breath with his lips on mine, my fingertips tracing one warm line across the landscape of his face. I would meet death not with a scream, but with the gentlest whisper, with a kiss. My hand reached towards him, but before I could consummate the impulse, a miracle named Delmar rescued us. I am ashamed to admit that I was secretly a little disappointed.

The fourth time, it ended in fire — nearly. We streaked across the land in a makeshift wooden sled, hurtling down a mountainside, his hips cinched in the saddle of my legs. Everything moved in a blur of white and green and blue, of wind and snow and pain — and then it stopped. We were alive, and the absurdity of Frobisher’s smile, of roasting moose hock, and the moving sea of red and khaki swarming around us was almost too much to bear. I laughed, and Ray laughed too, because the only alternative was to cry.

I fell asleep beneath the milk-river of stars, the calls of the wild echoing in my ears. My heart ached, knowing I would rather it had all ended in that fire: better to burn to ash in each other’s embrace than be parted forever, never having felt the touch of his fingers searing themselves into my skin.

 

**4) The embrace of the thighs.**

_ “When one of two lovers presses forcibly one or both of the thighs of the other between his or her own, it is called the 'embrace of thighs'.” _

###

My back slammed into the cabin wall, rough wood digging into my shoulder blades, splinters pricking my skin through the worn flannel of my shirt. He shoved his muscled thighs between mine, pushing hard, his lips and tongue hot, heavy, and desperate against my mouth. Stunned, I let out a gasp of shock, then a moan from deep in my throat. I couldn’t help it, couldn’t believe it, couldn’t stop it, didn’t want to. 

Lost in lust, lost in fantasy-reality, fingertips gripping flesh, our hips thrust together, cocks sliding hard and fast, reddened and cresting with desire. I begged. He assented. The wheel of ecstasy turned — and finally, finally, I was home. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The Four Embraces from RayK’s POV:
> 
> 1\. I’m a hugger.  
> 2\. He’s a liar.  
> 3\. Hold me close and never leave me.  
> 4\. Fuck me or (and) I’ll scream.


End file.
